10/08/2008

Victim of tyranny

I've made mention of P's tiny dictatorial leanings, but only within the past couple of days have I realised that the tyranny is aimed primarily at me. P is very much attached to me, which is somewhat of a relief as she is my child. Yet, she is much more likely to be a bossy cow to me rather than The Dude. It's not as if I'm a pushover, hence making me more receptive to her numerous demands, quite the opposite. I'm Mean Mommy (like Wendy Pepper - anyone remember her? Ew), the kid's Dad is the type who will put her on a chocolate drip and let her watch In The Night Garden until her eyeballs fall out. Why is he not the focus of her attempts to dominate and control?

P keeps her most precious elements in here, and woe betide anyone who dares to remove just one object. She is perceptive beyond her two years, and she will notice its absence.

What are the contents you say? Why...let us have a look!

Shall we break the elements down? Small denim purse which always has a varied collection of stones and shells?

CHECK!

What are those two creepy things hanging out on either side of the purse? Why they are a tiny pink frog and a miniature green seahorse made of hackeysack material. Obviously! Ah yes, and the addition of two hairbands cannot go unnoticed. Do not try to put these hairbands in the tiny dictator's hair of course, as screeching mutiny will ensue.

The final element to make this festive little unit complete? The requisite dirty ziploc bag containing more stones and shells. I have tried to replace the bag, which housed some raw vegetables I took to work for lunch, but my attempt was roundly rejected. Vehemently and with much emotion.

I tried to remove the seahorse one night - her screams of agony were so high-pitched, wolves bayed beneath our windows and walls weeped with blood. I took these photos when she was asleep, so scared am I of her wrath.

I try desperately not to laugh, but seriously, when a small being no taller than your hip goes all postal on you about the most minute thing - that shit is funny. I watch her pick all of the shrunken peas out of a readymade dinner and carefully place them in the cupholder portion of her highchair tray. I supervise her in the bath, lining up all the shampoo bottles and having a fit if the wetness of the bathtub causes one to slip slightly from its rigid line. I know that if I give her milk in the wrong cup, I will spend the next 10 minutes suffering for my sins.

I wonder what sort of OCD future awaits. I have faith that at the very least, I will not run out of blogging fodder, perhaps ever.

I'm so very glad to know that I'm not the only one who's child treats her like shit. My daughter's behavior is abominable toward me, but toward my husband? Angelic. She whines and throws fits and pushes me away. I've never seen her do any of that to her father.

As someone whose kid totally loses her shit when you so much as vary the TONE of your voice during storytime, I can relate. And ours alternates between bossing me and my husband around and/or ordering us to go away. I admit, I lost it one day and told her "I am the boss! And that means you have to do what I say!" I felt rather like the dictator of a tiny banana republic when I came to my senses after that one, because the overlord doesn't give a crap.

I hope you put all those treasures right back where you found them. Pru, I am happy to boldly put my hand up and confess that i too am bullied by my toddler. (Mainly because he is currently at daycare.)

Oh, that totally cracked me up. P is hilarious! I hate to see what she'd do to my son, the poor impressionable little child who copies what older kids do, even when they headbutt the floor and roar with laughter at him for doing the same.

Is she between the ages of 2 and 2 1/2, by any chance? Because when A was that age, we were expecting her brother and trying to prepare family members to take care of her when I was in the hospital. We wrote up her daily routine for them to use as a reference and it was like 6 or 7 pages long because she was so rigid and hidebound about EVERYTHING. You just gave me flashbacks!

I can laugh only because Sam is a baby and still HAS to do what I say. But the laughter hides a secret fear that keeps me awake, wide-eyed, with the covers pulled up to my nose at night. He might not WANT to hit me but what if I MAKE HIM??

Sniff...but Becky, you said Bat Girl was Alex in girl form! (Imagine the three of them together in one room--shudder.)

Is there something universal about the little purse filled with rubble and the dirty ziploc bag? The other day BG threw a major shit fit when she could not get her purse to hang EXACTLY right on her wrist as she pushed her doll stroller through the park. The poor childless couple who witnessed it will never be the same, I think.

Oh my god, the attachment thing. Bug had this yellow dice (die?) that she called Sparkle. No idea why, but boy howdy, did she lover her some Sparkle. Well, Sparkle went missing the other day and I swear to god, I don't know where it is, but I have yet to hear the end of it. "Sparkle gone, mama. Sparkle missing."